Category: Wordles
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For Sunday Whirl #396
A Nightjar in the Hawthornes I’m caught in the pull of a black pepper night. In a streaked chill that stings the moon. A nightjar sings, its breast swells with a song. A remix of clouds with stars. Sing, sing me your alchemy, and then stir the night. Sing in the spirit of life. …
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for dVerse and Sunday Whirl
Alone with Trees Walk. I walk with my thoughts, wild. Wild as wind, pebble-sharp. Chipped. And I think, Repent. Repent. I drink in loneliness of air, and wonder how I’ve come to love despair This week’s Sunday Whirl #387 words are: walk, knees, despair, world, love, pebbles, wild, air, lonely, calls, trees, repenting…
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For Wordle #385
Man o’ Manischewitz There’s a man, thinks he’s invisible but he’s not; he’s just blind. Not a beggar, not a tramp, either. He lives under the railroad trestle. And by night he stores his right eye in his pocket, slips it back into its socket by day. Gets a kick out of telling people it’s…
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For Sunday Whirl #381
Two Left Feet and a Piano Prize I’m the one who stood a few steps away from the others, who’d shrug when picked last. I was used to it. It was like an unfamiliar word when my name was called. It’s not a crime to be picked last, but here’s a memo — it’s not…
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A Merciless Sestina
One Day Over Time I’m not always as green as grass. I am without direction, like wind, I’m not always clear as spring’s sky but I do count those falling stars, and make wishes on them, and I wrap myself in hope of seeing the sun rising. I used to believe Revelations, rising up like…
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Wordle #353
Untitled He’s like stray murmurs, or a black-cat-fear that hides in black shadows. He’s silent. And invisible. He belongs to the walls. His thoughts tickle his ears. He laughs, the sound skips across the floor like marbles. Like truth stripped from little white lies. Life gets in his way – not living. This corner, this…
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for Sunday Whirl #352
The Other Side of the Road I remember that music as eagle-light, or drunk jazz dragged underwater, and the Queen of Hearts, as we called her, though her name was David, was brassy-loud, a belly animated by fat. She sang and laughed as the pianist coaxed voodoo from the minor keys, and the barman mixed…
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12 May 2018
Spring’s Sheen But still the rain beats, streaks the window in strings and seams. The wind is a rattle. Refasten the clematis, I remind myself. Its pink sheen, mere confetti. A string tight to the beam, straighten its list. A lean, bit to the right, a bit to the left. A child’s game. Simple. for…
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Wordle #344
Fill Me There’s a drum in my heart, but no tune. Fill me play me like music, give birth to mischievous shadows, silky as truth’s soul. Play me like broken notes, in flats, in sharps, like scales, and veils of falling rain. Fill the air and saturate my heart. Sunday Whirl words: saturate,…
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Sunday Whirl #342
All That Noise Curious disguise, this youthful mimicry. When we lost the gift of silence to stormy wind, it marred the sky like a viral draft. We watched stillness falling on all manner of stars, in a stutter, in a song, a sparkling charge. In my youth, I was hot wired to fry like desert…
It's Still Life 